


Series of Shorts

by seamusdeanforever_archivist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-26
Updated: 2015-10-26
Packaged: 2018-04-28 07:20:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5082799
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seamusdeanforever_archivist/pseuds/seamusdeanforever_archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>By Kaalee</p><p>A story told through a series of short pieces.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Series of Shorts

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Cora: this story was originally archived at [Seamus/Dean Forever](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Seamus/Dean_Forever), which I opened in 2002, and which was closed in 2005 when the server that hosted it was closed. To re-open the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in September 2015. An announcement was posted to OTW media channels, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this author, please contact me using the e-mail address on the [Seamus/Dean Forever archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/seamusdeanforever/profile).
> 
> ***
> 
> DISCLAIMER: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

Raspberry  
~for inspiredlife, from the prompt: Dean/Seamus, children 

~.:.~.:.~.:.~.:.~

"What are you doing?"

Dean looked up into a curious face and smiled, "Drawing."

She squinted critically, "But it's only... _people_. Why don't you have the grass or trees or that castle I just built?"

"Well," Dean considered briefly. "I like people."

"Strangers?"

"I guess."

"Don't you have friends you can draw?"

Dean shifted awkwardly, "Well, yeah, but..."

"I like rainbows," said the girl, patting his hand. "Rainbows and really big swords."

 _Five... maybe six_ , Dean thought. _And absolutely adorable._ The deep, raspberry-stung red of her lips stood out from her pale face and reminded him of someone that... someone that he'd tried to forget. "Both of those are nice, too." Dean bit back a laugh. "But they don't really _go_ together."

The little girl drew herself up, "That doesn't matter as long as _you_ like them."

Dean nodded uncertainly. Someone had said almost the exact same thing to him nearly five years ago and suddenly a deep, hollow _ache_ filled him.

"Oh! Look! Here comes my-"

 _...father_ , Dean finished silently, trying to breathe but for his plummeting heart, as a familiar body walked over, silhouetted in golden-red by the setting sun.

 _Bugger._ He wasn't ready for this.

Not now.

 

~.:.~.:.~.:.~.:.~

 

Drowning  
~for inspiredlife, continued from part one: Raspberry

 

~.:.~.:.~.:.~.:.~

Having polite tea twice a week in Seamus' tiny office felt almost surreal when Dean remembered their sweaty, muffled fumblings on his old sofa.

They discussed various old friends, restaurants, Quidditch... but never anything _real_. Dean avoided that the way a wolf avoids fire; he settled into the cushioned comfort of stale, one-dimensional small talk. Even the brightness of the fruit bowl sitting fragrant on the windowsill couldn't free the feelings stifled within him.

Seamus would bite into a strawberry and say, "Dean," in the most un- _fucking_ -Seamus-like voice Dean had ever heard: controlled and serious. Then he'd wait, unaware that the juice had stained his lips like shiny, wet desire. It was...

Dean couldn't handle it. He'd wince, his stomach burning, and jump out of his chair to pace the room.

Seamus would glower at him and, as though moving through heavy molasses, change the subject and pour Dean another cup of tea.

Once, he did open his mouth and words flooded the room, _Is she really your daughter? God, I've missed you. Why didn't- I've always lo-_ , drowning him. When he finally looked up, breathless with declarations, Seamus still looked expectant.

Dean realized that he hadn't said a word.

 

~.:.~.:.~.:.~.:.~

 

Tear  
~for inspiredlife

 

~.:.~.:.~.:.~.:.~

Memories began to mock him in dreams. Dreams that were hauntingly real, accurate, and so bloody perfectly _right_. Dean awoke with the dreadful feeling that things were going to tear him open... that he'd intentionally ruin everything.

Again.

Oddly, it happened during the late afternoon muddled sunlight that shone into his kitchen when he went, alone, to make tea. It hit him suddenly. He'd cultivated his time, organized it to be full, predictable, and safe. But when the sun shone in, painting golden lines across the counter, the stabbing pain of a thousand emotions pierced him at once. The question that had been bubbling within since he'd seen Seamus at the park finally burst and he lost the carefully structured reality he'd created.

The single dried tear on his cheek stung as he rapped at the door of Seamus's office, rapped until his heart was exposed and bleeding and staining his shoes.

When Seamus opened the door, words failed him again and Dean dropped to the floor, burying his face in his hands before looking up into Seamus's eyes and whispering, " _Please_."

Seamus sank down beside him and took his hand: soft, warm, familiar. "Dean. Dean, she's not my daughter."

 

~.:.~.:.~.:.~.:.~

 

Living  
~for inspiredlife

A/N: The shift to present tense in this part is deliberate. :)

 

~.:.~.:.~.:.~.:.~

The world melts into ragged contours of lust.

Dean thinks _yes yesyesYES_ , and things are so perfect they almost smolder. The breathless sound Seamus makes when their lips move stickily apart -- like tape pulled from a wall -- starts a slow burn in his chest. Dean pulls Seamus against him, _hard_ , until Seamus shudders and rocks their hips together. Desire-stained lips devour his neck and Dean's vision blurs, blackens... fucking _disappears_.

There's a softness to Seamus's belly now that wasn't there before, and Dean knows that his own belt size has increased during the years of misplaced longing.

For some reason, though, the only thing that seems to matter is that Seamus still has the raised scar (from exploding shrapnel) under his eye. It tastes exactly as Dean remembers, but _sweeter_ , somehow. Seamus trails his finger down the inside of Dean's naked thigh with the same light, teasing brushes that always made him tremble.

Seamus whispers words under his ear: _Dean, Dean_ and _only you_. Dean rolls back, pulling Seamus on top of him with such fervor that he almost loses his balance. Laughing, Dean realizes that he hasn't really been _living_ for years.

But now? Oh, he _is_.

 

~.:.~.:.~.:.~.:.~

 

Breathe  
~for inspiredlife

 

~.:.~.:.~.:.~.:.~

Her hand clutches the blanket as she falls asleep. Dean watches, his chest constricting with an inexplicable desire to protect her from his mistakes.

A floorboard creaks and Dean sees Seamus watching them, his expression unreadable. "So? Hope is...?"

"Colleen's daughter."

"Your sister. But, how-"

"She was killed after you left, weeks after Hope was born. There wasn't anyone else. She knows I'm her uncle, but calls me da anyway. I think it's just... easier."

"You mean-" Dean feels the entire core of his body empty, "Then, you never..."

"I couldn't. I'd had my chance and fucked it up, so..." Seamus looks down at a worn patch in the floor, "I figured it was time to focus on someone else's life."

"I feel like such a prat."

"Why, exactly? Because you needed to figure things out? Or because you did and you're... here now," he looks at Dean intently, " _Are_ you here now?"

Blistering panic swallows him and Dean can't _breathe_. "Hope doesn't need another father... doesn't need _me_."

Seamus walks slowly over and reaches out, entwining their fingers like strong ivy, "Maybe... maybe _her_ father needs you."

The world opens and Dean breathes again... for the very first time.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading! I appreciate all of your support as this grew out of something so little. *holds you tight*


End file.
